Sunday, October 27, 2013

Several weeks ago, the pastor of the Lutheran Church of the Master in Los Angeles asked if I would preach at his church's Reformation Sunday service, offering a Catholic perspective on Reformation. Below is the text of the reflection I prepared for that community's celebration which included variations on texts from the Roman Missal (e.g. the Collect for the Mass of Christian Unity, the Renewal of Baptismal Promises) as well as chant settings of the Sanctus and Agnus Dei chanted in Latin.

Sixty-one
years after Martin Luther nailed his famed “Ninethy-Five Theses” to the door of
Wittenburg Cathedral on the Feast of Saint Wolfgang, the city’s patron, and the
eve of All Saints’ Day, a man named Mark Roy was born in Sigmaringen, Germany.
As a young man, Mark Roy earned degrees in philosophy, civil law, and canon (or
Church) law. Mark Roy felt called to dedicate his life to the service of the
Gospel and eventually began serving as a sort of itinerant preacher for the
canton of Grisons. With only a Bible, prayer book, and cross, he traveled
through the countryside teaching and preaching in the hopes of bringing his
listeners closer to Christ and to one another.

On
the 24th of April, 1622, while he was preaching a sermon on Ephesians
4:5, “There is one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism,” someone fired a musket at
him… Since he was known to have been a gifted and engaging preacher, I don’t
imagine it was because he was talking too long or that he had a bad style.
Someone wanted to murder him because of what he was saying. As you might
imagine, the people of the town he was visiting invited him to stay with them
and seek a safe-haven. Mary Roy refused and continued on his way.

Later,
that same day, he was intercepted by a group of soldiers who were part of the
sect of those whom Mark Roy had angered by his preaching. After they demanded
he renounce his faith and accept their views, they attacked him with swords.
Another person had died in the name of Jesus.

So,
what was it about Mark Roy that made him so offensive to the people of Grisons?
Why was he considered dangerous? The simple answer is that he was Catholic.
Mark Roy was a Franciscan friar, known by his religious name—Father Fidelis. He
had been especially entrusted with a mission to reach out to the people of that
part of Switzerland who had become followers of the teachings of Calvin,
Zwingli, and Luther.

Saint Fidelis of Sigmaringen

Saint
Fidelis’ death is just one example of countless acts of violence that occurred
in the wake of the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation,
and there was too much violence, too much destruction, too much death because
of misguided zeal and religious fanaticism—most of which was little more than
thinly veiled political maneuvering. As with many realities of human life, the
Reformation and Counter-Reformation were a mix of good and bad ideas, visions,
and values being put into action by real people, on both sides, who were shaped
by cultural and political views that sometimes had little to do with the
Gospel. When we look at everything that has happened within Christian history
over the past 500 years, we realize that Paul’s words to the Romans are as true
now as they were then: "For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23).

As
I reflected on Pastor Itto’s invitation to worship with all you here this
morning, I realized something: I have never celebrated Reformation Day before.
Why would I have? This is not a day that is celebrated by Catholic and Orthodox
Christians. In my life and seminary formation, the Reformation was never
something that was celebrated—it was actually something that was lamented.

Don’t
get me wrong. I recognize that good came from the Reformation: broken and
outdated systems were dismantled, programs for educating the clergy and
teaching the Faith were strengthened, scandal and abuse within the Church were
addressed head-on, the basic elements of the Faith were examined more closely,
and the Church began to get back to basics. But, ultimately, the hoped
for-reforms of religious leaders like Luther led to schism, to division within
the Church.

But,
here I am, a Roman Catholic, with you on “Reformation Sunday.” What can I say?
What could I add to your celebration today?

To
be honest, I’ve struggled with that question for several weeks. I know that, in
a sense, this isn’t just a holiday (like Independence Day or Columbus Day) that
celebrates one historical event. Reformation Day is a day to remember that the
work of the Church isn’t finished. We are being continually called to renewal
and to conversion as individual Christians and as local church communities.
But, is this just a call for Protestants? Isn’t that call also extended to
Roman Catholics, Eastern-Rite Christians, and the Orthodox? After all, Jesus
only established one Body, the Church. However different our ways of engaging
the truths of Faith might be, we are, each of us, still a member of the one
Body of Christ.

So,
what if today, rather than celebrating Reformation Day, we celebrated a day of
prayer for healing and unity within the Church? What could it mean if, instead
of celebrating the reality of division, we reached across denominational lines
and actively engaged Christians of other perspectives and views, who pray
differently than we do? What if we listened to how others interpret the Word of
God and didn’t shy away from those whom we perceive as too conservative or too
liberal? In my experience, churches try very hard to be people of hospitality
for those who are outside of the Church, but we can be anything but hospitable
and welcoming to one another.

I
know that this open spirit is part of the reason Pastor Itto invited me to be
with you today and I’m genuinely grateful for the chance to be here, to pray
for and with you. With all that in mind, I want to echo the words of a recent statement made by Catholic and Lutheran leaders: “What happened in the past
cannot be changed, but what is remembered of the past and how it is remembered
can, with the passage of time, indeed change.” How do we do that? What does
that even mean?

Obviously,
we can’t undo the past. We can’t unwrite histories of scandal, violence,
animosity, and abuse. We can, however, begin to look at our histories and
present realities through the eyes of faith. While all the good and bad words
and deeds of past generations have brought us to this moment, here and now, the
past does not have to define who we are and how we move forward. After all, as
Oscar Wilde said, “Every saint has a past and ever sinner has a future.” I
think this applies to churches, as well.

This
time of year, in other parts of the country, it isn’t unusual to see flocks of
Canada geese flying south for their winter’s migration. I imagine most of us
here have seen tell-tale V-formation of these birds as they fly along.

This
image inspired a young composer, Adam Guettel, to write: “We sail above the
weather / We search the ocean floor. We rival our creation, still yearning for
more. But can we fly together—a migratory V? How wonderful if that’s what God
could see.” How wonderful, indeed.

Recently,
I learned something about this “Migratory V.” Flying behind the formation is a
single goose who glides from left to right, almost if she can’t quite decide
where she wants to be. Well, this goose actually watches the others who are
flying in formation to see if one of them is having a difficult time keeping
pace with the others. If one of her companions begins to lag behind or fall
away, this goose-in-the-rear makes her way to the tired goose and flies below
them, adjusting air currents to help her companions lift their wings and fly.
That part I knew… what I didn’t know was that once this happens, the other
geese notice and begin to take turns helping their tired or weak companion
moving forward with the rest of the group.

Now,
if you’ve ever been around geese, especially Canada geese, you know they’re
dirty, mean, surprisingly territorial, and not very bright… a lot like us, at
times. But, they certainly have something to teach us about what we can do if
we pay attention to one another and support one another.

How
wonderful if that is what God could see here in the Church of the Master, in
the ELCA, in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, and in local churches and religious
groups throughout the world. How wonderful if God saw Catholics and Lutherans,
Episcopalians and Presbyterians, Methodists and Orthodox Christians, the UCC
and Baptists, and all the rest of us Christians actively supporting
one another, so that we could all move forward together, as one Body—for indeed,
that is what we are. The world needs
us to stand together to combat injustice and to proclaim the truth of God’s
love. There is so much pain and need in the world—we have to be bigger than our
theological disputes and historical prejudices.

In
a few moments, in place of the Creed, Pastor Itto and I will lead you in
renewing the promises of
baptism. These words are based on the Apostle’s Creed and form is taken from the
Roman Missal, the official liturgical
book of the Roman Catholic Church. As you renew your own commitment to follow
Christ, I encourage you to be mindful of those generations of women, men, and
children, throughout the world, who have professed this same faith. Because, as
Saint Fidelis reminded us in his last sermon, given on the day he died, “There
is one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism.”

Sunday, October 20, 2013

During this Year of Faith, the theme of the New
Evangelization has largely dominated conversations within the Church. I have
been especially struck by how often the themes of mission and evangelization
are misunderstood or ignored by many groups And, this isn’t necessarily a
Catholic phenomenon; many Protestant communions shy away from the work of “evangelism”
because of fear that they will be perceived as proselytizing or as having an
out-of-check zeal.

When we profess the Creed, we express our belief in a Church
that is “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic.” The unity and universality of a faith
that is based on God’s revelation of God’s self in Jesus are fundamental
aspects of the Christian Faith, summarizing the first three “marks” of the
Church. When we reflect on the apostolic nature of the Church, we most often
think in terms of history, of the Church as founded on the teaching and
traditions handed on by the Apostles and Fathers of the Church (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 857).
But, how often do we understand our call to be an “apostolic” people as meaning
that, like Peter, Paul, and the other Apostles, we, too, are “sent out.” In its
decreeApostolicam Actuositatem (On the Apostolate of the Laity), the Fathers
of the Second Vatican Council wrote, “The Christian vocation by its nature is
also a vocation to the apostolate. No part of the structure of a living body is
merely passive but has a share in the functions as well as life of the body:
so, too, in the body of Christ, which is the Church, ‘the whole body… in
keeping with the proper activity of each part, derives its increase from its
own internal development’ (Ephesians 4:16).” Where does this leave us?

It means we have been empowered to help guide and engage our
faith communities and to engage our pastors. But, with this privilege comes
responsibility—each of us has a specific part to play in the life of the Church
and the spread of the Gospel. It’s easy to ignore our individual
responsibilities and let the “ministry professionals” do the work of mission
and evangelization. For some of us, it might be a fear of saying the wrong
thing or even feeling like we don’t know the faith well enough to publicly
profess what we believe and who we are as a people of faith. But, we also have
to admit, that this takes work and time, two things that can make passivity very
appealing.

Another reason that so many of us don’t step forward is because
we only want to engage the Church and Christian doctrine and tradition on our
own terms. Rather than allowing ourselves to be formed by an active and mutual
relationship with the broader Church (both the magisterium and our fellow
believers), we opt for what Saint Paul warns of in the Second Letter to
Timothy: “For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine
but, following their own desires and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate
teachers and will stop listening to the truth.” What is the antidote to this? “Proclaim
the word; be persistent whether it is convenient or inconvenient; convince,
reprimand, encourage through all patience and teaching… be self-possessed in
all circumstances; put up with hardship; perform the work of an evangelist;
fulfill your ministry” (4:3-4; 2, 5). In all of this, we can look to the saints
(including those named above) for inspiration. If we only choose what is
comfortable, we’ll never really be the apostles that we are called to be or
living out the covenant made in our baptism and sealed in the sacrament of
confirmation. We also show a marked disrespect for the experiences of those
countless Christians around the world who continue to suffer heroically simply
because of their faithful witness to Christ and what has been handed down to
them by the Church.

Saint Paul depicted in a 9th century illumination
ascribed to the Benedictine Abbey of St. Gall in Switzerland

In his Message for Mission Sunday, Pope Francis wrote, “Faith
is God’s precious gift… Faith, however, needs to be accepted, it needs our
personal response, the courage to entrust ourselves to God, to live God’s love and
be grateful for infinite mercy… It is a gift that one cannot keep to oneself,
but it is to be shared. If we want to keep it only to ourselves, we will become
isolated, sterile and sick Christians. The proclamation of the Gospel is part
of being disciples of Christ and it is a constant commitment that animates the
whole life of the Church.”

There is so much to celebrate about our Faith, most
especially its power to transform us and our world. But, all of this demands an
openness on our parts and a willingness to be changed by a God who is not made
in our image, but who has created us in and for love: “What made you establish
humanity in so great a dignity? Certainly the incalculable love by which you
have looked on your creature in yourself! You are taken with love of her; for
by love indeed you created her, by love you have given her a being capable of
tasting your eternal Good” (Saint Catherine of Siena, Dialogues 4, 13).

Sunday, October 13, 2013

The
Gospel of Luke includes a transitional text (8:1-3) that we might be tempted to
dismiss because of its simplicity. Saint Luke presents Jesus, the itinerant
preacher, travelling from village to village, “proclaiming the good news of the
Kingdom of God.” Traveling with Jesus are the Twelve and a group of women,
including Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna, among others.

That
the evangelist includes the names of these women is not an insignificant
detail. Along with Mary (the wife of Cleopas), Salome (the mother of James and
John), and Martha of Bethany, these women are celebrated as the “Myrrhbearers,”
a name that honors the part they played as witnesses of the Lord’s
Resurrection. Tradition holds that these were the women who prepared the body
of Jesus for burial and who were among the first to announce the Good News on
that Easter morning.

Myrrh,
an essential element in preparing a body for burial, is a costly resin. The
generosity of these women, whose valuable gift was a sign of their love for the
crucified Lord, was also an expression of the gratitude they felt for the One
who given them so much. Saint Luke simply relates that they had been “cured of
evil spirits and infirmities,” but whatever it was that Jesus did for them,
their relationship with him left an indelible mark and changed their lives
forever. These women weren’t just benefactors of Jesus’ ministry—they became missionaries
in their own right.

We
see the same spirit of gratitude at work in the story of the Ten Lepers (Luke17:11-19). Although all the lepers were cured of their illness, only one
returned to say thank you. Although we often focus on the physical healing in
the story, the lepers, like the Myrrhbearers, were given something even more
precious—they were offered a new identity, a fullness of life that can only
come through a relationship with Jesus. What they might have been before did
not matter. Jesus had made them new creatures, whole and holy reflections of
the God in whose image they were made: “Whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the
old things have passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Cardinal Basil Hume said that “To say ‘thank you’ is very human and very lovely.” We have so much for which we can and should be
thankful, most especially for the gift of wholeness and holiness that is made
available to us through our engagement of God’s Word, through the sacraments, and
the living Tradition of the Church. But we should also recall
that true gratitude, the kind shown by the Myrrhbearers and the leper, is
dynamic and is best expressed in acts of love and kindness. Because we have
been so richly blessed, who are called to a blessing for others.

Monday, October 7, 2013

"Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God."—Colossians 3:16

Although this admonition from Saint Paul is not among the readings that
may be used for Masses in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as I reflected on
today’s Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary, they seemed to reflect Mary’s
engagement of God’s Word, both as the Mother of Christ and as a woman of faith.

Recently, Pope Francis reminded us that Mary faced life’s journey with “great
realism, humanity, and practicality.” While the Memorial of Our Lady of the
Rosary most often invites reflection on Mary’s contemplative spirit (which
Blessed John Paul II highlighted in his Apostolic Letter Rosarium Virginis Mariae, in which he introduced the new “LuminousMysteries”), this title of Mary reminds us that she was a woman of active
faith, a faith which took her infinitely beyond the boundaries of the small
town of Nazareth into the central
event of human history—the life, death, and resurrection of the One who was her
Son.

Often called “the poor man’s Bible,” the rosary has a rich history that
has been explored in any number of books. What we don’t often consider is that
this devotion developed over the course of several generations, and the prayer took
the form we now recognize only at the end of the sixteenth century. Although we
cannot precisely trace the evolution of the rosary itself, the liturgical
celebration that is now observed on October 7, formerly called the Feast of the
Most Holy Rosary, was introduced in the city of Rome by the Dominican pope
Saint Pius V in 1571 as the “Feast of Our Lady of Victory,” to commemorate
the Battle of Lepanto. On October 7, 1571, the combined naval forces of a coalition
Catholic countries in southern Europe (the “Catholic League”) defeated the main
fleet of the Ottoman Empire off the coast of Greece. This battle ended a 33-year
long monopoly of the Mediterranean by the aggressive and strongly
anti-Christian Turks. A lay organization known as the Confraternity of the
Rosary had made it their special task to pray for the victory of the Christian
forces. To honor their devotion and the gift of Mary’s intercession, Pope Saint
Pius V established the Feast of Our Lady of Victory.

In 1573, to give a more clear
focus to the commemoration, Pope Gregory XIII changed the name to the Feast of
the Most Holy Rosary. Finally, in 1960, the name of the feast was changed to “Our
Lady of the Rosary,” and the celebration as we have it today calls for us to “meditate
on the mysteries of Christ, following the example of the Blessed Virgin Mary
who was in a special manner associated with the incarnation, passion and
glorious resurrection of the Son of God” (from the “historical note” for October
7 in The Divine Office). The history
of this memorial, which is among the most colorful of any liturgical
celebration in the Church’s cycle of seasons and feasts, demonstrates how the
Church both engages the world and how doctrine and devotion can develop over
time. In this case, the focus of this celebration has shifted from being a
triumphalistic celebration to a very intentional reflection on Mary’s dynamic
faith and the mysteries of redemption embodied in the rosary.

Mary’s faith enabled her to take an active role in the working of
Providence. Saint Augustine has reminded us that this is Mary’s glory: “Yes, of
course, holy Mary did the will of the Father. And therefore it means more for
Mary to have been a disciple of Christ than to have been the mother of Christ.
It means more for her, an altogether greater blessing, to have been Christ’s
disciple than to have been Christ’s mother… She kept truth safe in her mind
even better than she kept flesh safe in her womb. Christ is truth, Christ is
flesh; Christ as truth was in Mary’s mind, Christ as flesh in Mary’s womb”
(from Sermon 72).

Mary stands before us as an icon of discipleship and a model of the
Church at prayer. Even as she reflected on all that happened to her, keeping “all
these things, reflecting on them in her heart” (Luke 2:19), she did not stand
idly by as a passive observer of all that was going on around her. No, she
manifested a faith that constantly took her outside of herself and her own
comfort or preference. From the fiat
of the Annunciation, to her hasty visit to Elizabeth, to her intercession at
the Wedding of Cana, and to being strong enough to stand beneath the cross of
her dying Son, she listened to God, reflected, and acted.

How often in our own lives, or in the life of our Church, do we take the
role of a mere observer? Do we risk putting into action what we know to be
true, taking the risk of listening attentively to what is being asked of us, no
matter how unwelcome or inconvenient the call may be? Do we reach out in haste
to one who needs us, without counting the cost? And do we engage the world in
the spirit of the Gospel, speaking for those who have no voice and who are
deprived of what is rightfully theirs?

The Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary is so much more than just an “idea
feast” or remnant of a “safer,” more pious past. This celebration and title of
Our Lady remind us that faith must be dynamic, taking us out of ourselves and
the comfort and safety of the lives we have created onto a path of grateful,
loyal, and self-giving discipleship.

A Prayer of Pope Francis +

Mary, woman of listening, open our ears; grant us to know
how to listen to the word of your Son Jesus among the thousands of words of
this world; grant that we may listen to the reality in which we live, to every
person we encounter, especially those who are poor, in need, in hardship.

Mary, woman of decision, illuminate our mind and our heart,
so that we may obey, unhesitating, the word of your Son Jesus; give us the
courage to decide, not to let ourselves be dragged along, letting others direct
our life.

Mary, woman of action, obtain that our hands and feet move “with haste” toward
others, to bring them the charity and love of your Son Jesus, to bring the
light of the Gospel to the world, as you did. Amen.

About Me

I am a member of the Society of the Divine Savior (the Salvatorians) and currently serve on the staff of the Milwaukee Catholic Herald and as a regular contributor to Aleteia.org. In addition to my work as a writer and editor, I am also a retreat leader and presenter who is passionate about adult faith formation and am available to lead retreats, classes, and times of reflection for parish groups and others (in both Catholic and non-Catholic parishes and faith communities).

If you are interested in arranging a time of reflection or presentation for your parish, religious community, or prayer group, please contact me at SilasSHenderson(at)gmail(dot)com.